


I'll Do Whatever It Takes

by DebsterClintashaLove



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extended Scene, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, One True Pairing, Pain, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Swearing, True Love, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebsterClintashaLove/pseuds/DebsterClintashaLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hates him, really fucking hates him.<br/>But no matter how much she tries to push him away, she's just hiding the fact that she really fucking loves him. <br/>Really fucking needs him. <br/>And in every way, he needs her just as bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Do Whatever It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Dexter, Season 8, episode 8x02, 'Every Silver Lining'

"Jesus Deb." I heard a light whisper by the voice I absolutely hated. I was still half asleep, and I sure as shit took my sweet time to even open my eyes. My head felt like it was about to fucking explode from the pain, and I had one fuck-ton of a headache. I felt like I couldn't move a fucking muscle in my body, and my side was hurting from a jacket just laying across the huge ass bruise on my side. I felt so happy that I killed that motherfucker El Sapo, but at the same time, I felt like a monster even feeling that way. The monster Dexter turned me into. I wasn't fucking human feeling that way. I was just like him. I was so fucking upset he didn't shoot me in that storage unit. I deserved it. I heard the doors shut, despite his attempt to shut them softly.

"The fuck are you doing here?" I opened my eyes, asking him weakly, when all I wanted was for him to leave. I turned my body, looking up at the ceiling, pressing my hand to my head, trying to ease the pain.

"Deb." he said softly.

"I don't want you around, I thought I made that really fucking clear." I replied, my eyes closed slightly. 

"El Sapo is dead." Dexter said, bluntly.

"El Sapo." I responded, raises my eyebrows.

"The man who was sent to take out Briggs."

"I know who the fuck that is!" I shouted, but it came out too low to be heard through the house.

"Well, someone shot him in his car, looked like an execution. Do you know anything about this?" he asked, as he sighed. I breathed out, raising my eyebrows again, opening my eyes.

"All I know is what my head feels like right now." I told him, woozy and tired.

"I tried calling, I was worried about you." he said, sadly, as he sat down on the free armrest across from me.

"That's touching. I'm fine." I replied, not a single care. I could tell he was actually trying to be sympathetic. Yeah, I tried that for years, so I could get through to him, and he expects me to buy it. I didn't need his fucking sympathy. 

"Fine isn't the first word that comes to mind, and anybody could've walked in here." he exclaimed, firmly, yet caring, referring to the door, and my safety. 

"The door wouldn't close, so I had to get creative." I replied sarcastically, raising my eyebrows. I began to push myself up off the couch, moaning out in pain from my side, to sit properly. As I did, I felt my plaid button-up ride up my stomach to reveal the bruise and off my shoulder a bit to reveal my bra strap. I knew he had to have seen the bruise now, since his face filled with shock and worry.

"What happened? Deb, what happened to your side?" he asked me, worried and even fucking scared. I sat up, staring down at the ground, trying to think clearly. 

"El-El Sapo followed me to the storage unit," I paused, looking up at him, pulling my knees close to my chest, still holding my side lightly, "where briggs kept his stash, you know. We tousled, he got the stuff, end of story." I finished, as I brushed the loose hair behind my ear, away from my face.

"Except it's not the end of the story. El Sapo's dead." he said, firmly.

"Better fucking be, he deserved it."

"And if whoever killed El Sapo comes after you?"

"Nobody is coming after me, Dexter." I shouted.

"How do you now that?" he yelled back, caring. I kept staring at him, warning him with my eyes not to go any fucking further.

"Will you not do this, please?" He kind of scoffed, looking at me confused and angry.

"What?"

"Give a shit." I told him, sounding like a smart-ass, my lip curling. He became even more upset than before, and I started to maybe even feel sort of guilty acting this way. He looked like he was near tears. He actually cared and was upset, like he longed to help me, or even longed for me to just be with him.

"Deb, I'm your brother. You can hate me if you want it, but it doesn't change the fact that I care about you." he said, affectionately. I had to look away, because I couldn't bare seeing him so upset anymore, especially when he didn't understand why I was acting this way. He believes that I fucking hate him, when really, I have to act like this toward him, because of how I really feel. I'm still in love with him, even after all the shit we've endured. I know he doesn't feel the same, so why the fuck am I going to show my true feelings when he doesn't even feel that way back. I become more heartbroken every time I think of what we could be. Our possibilities, our future. I wouldn't have been through six months of hell, if I could feel that way about him and him feel that way back. I felt the tears bottle up in my eyes, but I continued to hold them in. I wasn't going to let him see me cry, no matter how many fucking times he has.

"I didn't want to hate you. I wanted the opposite." I replied, softly, upset, as I looked back up at him. He leaned back in the chair, his face pooled with agony. His look just said a thousand words, and I could feel myself about to burst in tears, when I saw his built up tears as well. It was easy to see, because he never cried, so when you see it, you never forget. You sure as hell never want to see it again either. "But it didn't work out that way, and I-I can't-I can't change the way I feel. Will-will you go?" I adjusted myself to look away from him, as every word I said sounded like nails scratching against a window. I was in so much fucking pain, physically and emotionally. He stared at me, still upset. 

"I'm not leaving you." he finally said, hurt. I threw my hands up to rest on my head, my eyes not being able to contain the tears any longer. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Dexter, get the fuck out. Go." I told him firmly. He rose from the chair, looking as though he was going to leave, but he just stood there in front of me.

"I'm making it really clear that I'm not leaving. I want to help you." he pled out, and I burst from anger. I jumped up from the couch in anger.

"Jesus Christ, Dexter, get the fuck out of my damn house! I don't want your fucking help!" I practically screamed at him, but then screamed out in pain from my side, and I fell back onto the couch. I gripped at my side, now in tears, and my whole body began to ache in excruciating pain. He rushed over to me, grabbing a hold of my arms lightly, to help me. 

"Deb, stop you're going to hurt yourself even more!" he shouted, firmly, tears escaping his eyes.

"I told I don't want your fucking help! I want you to leave, because I can't feel any other way about you!" I yelled back in agony. He looked down at me, helplessly, a hold still on my arm, and I looked down, away from him. The contact of his skin on mine burned in a good way. A way of saying its been too long, and it feels perfect. I never knew you could miss a person so much. 

"Is that what you want?" he asked, softly.

"What the fuck are you-"

"You're still in love with me. These feelings. Is that what you want?" 

"Dexter, I don't know, I just-"

"Is that what will make you happy? Is that what'll make you stop avoiding me? Tell me!" he yelled, sadly. I looked back up at him, swallowing hard. 

"Yes. It's what I've always wanted. You. A goddamn fucking serial killer. Even through all the shit we've been through, I still want you." He began inching closer to my face, and I felt myself leaning up to him. 

"If that's what you want, you can have it." he replied, relieved, as he pressed his lips hard against mine, moving his hands from my arms to rest on my thighs. I could taste all his feelings in his kiss. His desperation and longing for me in this way. I wanted to pull away, because I hated him, but I couldn't pull away. It was so damn good, made me so fucking happy. I felt like I wanted to be alive for once in the six months after I did what I did. He wanted me in this way, just as much as I did him. He needed me in this way, like I did. He was so needy and desperate for me. I fucking loved it. I moved a hand behind the nape of his neck, pulling his lips harder onto mine. I felt his tongue push past my lips, granting his own entrance into my mouth.

"Oh my god, Dex." I moaned against his mouth, as he pushed the collar of my button-up away. I felt his mouth move from mine to kiss and bite at my exposed collarbone. I tangled my hand into his hair, crying out his name, as his touch was enough to please me. He pulled away, staring back into my eyes, and I became worried.

"Dex."

"I want you, Deb. I need you." he said, as if asking for permission.

"If that's what you want, you can have it." I smiled at him. He pressed his lips back to mine, and my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down onto the couch with me. He hovered over me then, lips still on mine. He broke the kiss, just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, then threw it to the ground. His mouth was back on my collarbone, and he began unbuttoning my shirt. After each button he undid, he'd press a kiss to my chest, my breasts, my stomach until the damn thing was off, and I sighed with pleasure at each little peck. I I lifted up slightly enough to unhook the pesky bra I still had on, as he unbuttoned and pulled down my jeans. As he pulled each leg down, he'd press another line of kisses to my thigh, my knee  until it was off, doing the same to the other leg. A few articles of clothing later, we were down to nothing, and he came down on me, lips crushed against mine, sliding inside of me. 

"Oh, fuck, Dex!" I whimpered against his lips, as he began to move. I wrapped my legs around his waist tightly, pulling him deeper in, hearing a groan escape his lips. I smirked back, seductively at him and took pleasure in his smile back. "God, Dex, so good, oh!"

"Deb, you're so fucking beautiful, my god." he groaned out, crushing his lips back to mine, as I tangled a hand back into his hair. Despite how painful this bruise was, all other sensations took over, and I couldn't even think about that fucking bruise. His mouth moved down from my lips to explore me with his mouth, while still thrusting. 

"Fuck me, Dex, I love you." I moaned out against his lips, my legs tightened around his waist and sighed out in pleasure, and he huffed out. This way he made me feel, only Brian was ever able to. It wasn't fucking, it was making love. Fuck, that just sounded cheesy as shit, but it was completely true. He rested his forearms on either side of me, holding himself up.

"I love you, Deb. Don't ever leave me again."

"Don't ever fucking make me." I smirked back, kissing him again. 


End file.
